


Lionne

by fandomfairytales



Series: To Keep Christmas Well [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas miracles do happen, Draco meets the parents, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, It doesn't start out well, Strictly Dramione's Yuletide Magic 2018, christmas with the in-laws, doing my best to hint at a supportive and healthy relationship, everything is all right, if we convinced Lucius the Grangers will be easy peasy, justified animosity, secret engagement, that silver tongue has more than one use, theres a light at the end of the tunnel, well soon to be in-laws
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 03:19:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17072528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfairytales/pseuds/fandomfairytales
Summary: Written for the Strictly Dramione Yuletide Magic Fest 2018A smutty one-shot for prompt 15: Christmas at the in-laws.With her parent's memories inexplicably returned Hermione and Draco attend Christmas in her family home for the first time as a couple. But will Mr & Mrs Granger be able to accept how much has changed?(title means lioness in French, I had a headcanon that Draco would call her that).





	Lionne

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to my wonderful Beta @daynaann you are a lifesaver. 
> 
> I had so much fun writing this, even if the idea did come to me like yesterday. (for that reason, I apologise if it feels rushed, my hands could not keep up with my brain).

 

There was something to be said about the feeling of going home for Christmas. It amazed Hermione how much things could change, looking back.

So many Christmases spent in the castle had left her memory fuzzy and the last time she had walked into Christmas in her family home she had been smaller and much less wise than she was.

Also, not quite so in love. Or so nervous.

Funny that. Things don’t always turn out the way they’re expected to. Through her teenage years, she often assumed that the person she’d be bringing home to meet her parents would be Ron. You know; safe, easy, simple to explain, best friend turned something more; Ron.

But that hadn’t gone anywhere and three years later working for Gringotts as a curse breaker, she found herself not only in contact with but completely head over heels for her blond git of a co-worker.

She could spend a decade explaining why Draco Malfoy won her heart and still wouldn’t be one hundred per cent sure how. The only thing she knew for sure was that out of the blue he’d stopped being irritating and started being endearing.

But standing on the bottom step leading to a house that felt a little more like home with her parents restored, she was glad to have his hand held tight in her own, so tight the disillusioned engagement ring on her finger would be sure to leave an imprint.

This would be the first time she brought anyone home for Christmas, having spent the last three with his parents, quietly mourning the technical loss of her own (until last year when they showed up at her door with every last memory returned). It was a frightening prospect and a million what ifs raced through her mind;

What if they hate him? What if they blame him? What if they can’t forgive him for how he used to treat me? What if they…

It all sent her into a spiral, but he was there at the bottom to catch her; Reliable as ever, that was her Draco.

“You ready, Ma lionne chérie?”

“No, not at all.”

“It’s going to be fine, after all, you dealt with meeting my father, didn’t you?”

“You think it will go that badly!?”

“No, _no_! Not what I meant, although Lucius thinking our relationship was a ruse was a highlight; this is going to be a day at the beach in comparison.”

She took a deep breath to calm herself, using his words as an anchor.

“Besides, it’s me, when am I ever not my usual charming, well-mannered self?”

“Do you really want me to get into answering that one?”

He gave a light 'humph,' making a show of deflating and squeezed her hand before pulling her up the steps to ring the bell.

She could hear the scurrying behind the door and her mother yelling at her dad to get out of the way, so she could get to the lock.

Here we go she thought with a hint of sarcasm. I really should have told them…

The door swung open so fast it almost dislodged the wreath, barely able to keep up with its hook.

Coming face to face with her mother, holding hands with an unknown man was quite the experience. First, she was all excitement and fawning, then realisation crept in and she very quickly came to recognise the man standing with her daughter was rather infamous.

Her father didn’t fare much better, he simply connected the dots a little quicker.

Oh dear.

“What is _he_ doing here? Why on earth would you bring him here?”

“Hermione dear, best explain to your father quick now.”

“Mind if we come in first Mum?”

She shook the sleet from her beanie by way of explanation.

“Oh, right, of course, come in out of the cold, then explain.”

She shot Draco a look and received his trademark smirk in reply. Gosh, she hoped her parents didn’t see that.

As soon as they were standing (awkwardly) in the excessively decorated entryway, he stuck out his hand in the direction of her fuming father.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

Her father accepted but she could tell he wanted to do more than just shake his hand; maybe tear it off?

Next was her mother and she had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes.

“And you must be the ever so charming Mrs Granger.”

Her lack of reply was colder than any sentence her mother could have spoken. And Hermione tucked herself closer to his side fearing the worst.

“Hermione, you didn’t tell us you were bringing a guest?”

“I, um… Sorry, Mum. This is-”

“We know exactly who he is.”

“Oh.”

“Well never mind that now, let's go in and have a cuppa and you can explain why there’s a Malfoy in my house.”

Once her parents were out of earshot Draco bent to whisper in her ear.

“That went well I think.”

She slapped his arm and growled.

“Hey, look on the bright side, they can’t hex me, or Avada me.”

“Why bother with an Avada? My father hunts, he’d go for the gun.”

“Well then, there’s something we have in common, Malfoys love anything to do with killing poor little defenceless animals.”

“Oh please, we both know you can’t stand the sight of blood, much less skin a rabbit.”

“Okay, that was fair… But still, I used to be quite good at it before the aversion kicked in.”

“Yes well, what we’re trying to do is avoid how you came by that aversion.”

“You make a compelling point lionne.”

Her heart began to pound a wild tattoo in her chest as she led him down the hall. Draco, somehow optimistic, and ever the magpie, kept trying to stop and stare at the tinsel or the pictures hanging on the wall, but she was having none of it.

After grabbing a glass of Merlin knows what from the table, she took a long swig, pulled him down onto the nearest lounge and crushed his hand in her nervous grip.

When her parents returned, she could tell they had been arguing, her mother’s cheeks were flushed a brilliant shade of vermillion and the little vein on her father’s forehead was still visible.

“So, Hermione, care to tell us how _this_ came to happen.”

Her mother gestured to their entwined hands and she gulped, tightening her grip on the almost empty glass.

“Well, uhm, its kind of a long story.”

“Then make it shorter.”

Draco interjected lightly.

“Yes, right; so, after the war and Hogwarts, I started working in a bank…”

‘Where was I going with this?’; she wondered, having lost her train of thought already.

“…Quite a big bank actually, I’m rather proud Gringotts even considered me what with the whole sword of Gryffindor t-thing and the dragon…”

Draco gently bumped her knee to right her conversational course. But it didn’t help her rambling, she was too far gone.

“…As a curse breaker, and you see I have this co-worker. I thought I knew him, but the more time I spent with him the more I came to see that he was quite the contradiction and that I really liked it, I mean him. Then about a year ago Draco saved my life… we were on assignment and I got myself trapped in a tomb with this mummy, some devotee of Egyptian wizarding gods, really scary stuff, they worshi…”

He patted her thigh lightly and mercifully took over her digression for her.

“I got her out and it changed things. I know you’ve probably heard a lot of sordid tales about me, it’s likely they are all true and you’re right to be wary. I bullied your daughter, made her cry more times than I can bear to think about, I hurt muggles like you, aided a madman in a war I wish never happened… But at the end of the day, I let go of the beliefs that were poisoning me, set my mind on bettering myself and I fell in love; with the last person on earth I ever thought would love me back mind you… But here we are.”

Hermione knew she must have looked a right starry-eyed fool, but hearing his conviction made her a little weak at the knees even if he was in the middle of rattling off the worst of their pasts.

“You have every right to hate me, I know what I was, what I did, I bear the mark of it on my skin and every day it reminds me that if she can forgive me then maybe I can forgive myself; but I’ll never forget.”

“You discuss forgiveness so easily, how is that?”

“Well, in my experience Mrs Granger, it's an easy thing to talk about, harder to accept and understand.”

“And what about you, Hermione, can you honestly sit there and tell me that you’ve given up on resenting him?”

“I can.”

“Well then, I suppose my mind is made up.”

“Helen!”

“ _Robert_!”

“We’re no better than the people Hermione fought against if we can’t learn to accept this.”

“I know but, why him? all those letters; Malfoy this, Malfoy that, I can’t stand him, etcetera, etcetera.”

  
Her mother’s searing gaze said it all, ‘it’s not up to you.’ She felt Draco’s smirk radiate through him without needing to look and could practically hear his teasing lilt in her head saying ‘Aw, Granger you wrote home about me?” Having already established early on that some (not all but some) of his teasing was the result of a boyish crush she was willing to let that one slide.

Hermione had forgotten that inevitably Draco was her choice, families, they were loved and needed and ultimately, he was part of that, there was nothing anyone could say to shake her resolve. There were people that staunchly opposed their relationship; those that knew them came to see how and why it worked so well between them, but many couldn’t begin to fathom how the ‘Golden Girl’ ended up with the ‘Prince of Death Eaters’ as Rita Skeeter teasingly put it.

She didn’t want her parent’s names added to that list.

oOo

As topics changed and conversation dragged on with even more questions and explanations, a sense of calm began to creep in; or maybe it was the two bottles of wine that she wished was fire whiskey and had sipped with a smirk while Draco continued to reassure her. With her parents no longer interrogating them (though their questions remained invasive) she felt her anxiety ebb.

Draco was perfect, her rock; there to cut in with a witty line or a serious admission that melted away every last doubt she had regarding him meeting her parents and he was just as drunk as she was. Bless him… Not that her parents noticed their perpetually full glasses, magic was good for some things.

Even her father was slowly getting on board. They sat down to a slightly tense dinner and by dessert, they were getting along quite well. It certainly helped that she had picked someone who was more than adept at keeping up with the traditional Granger academic discussion.

Trivial pursuit would be a lark with the four of them playing.

And to top it all off, he didn’t let go of her once. Save to eat and help her with the dishes. Linked by their hands or arms, even crossing their ankles under the table, just to reassure one another and enjoy the closeness.

It didn’t go unnoticed, and when Draco and her father disappeared into the study, her mother was right there with comments of a sweeter nature.

“You know sweetie, for all his past faults, at least he looks at you like you hung the moon.”

“I know Mum, I see that look every day.”

“It’s all I ever wanted for you; I mean, always knew you’d achieve great things, so I never had to hope for that, but I always wished that you’d have someone like that to come home to at the end of the day.”

“I used to be so practical about love before him, had it all planned out; but even a seer couldn’t have seen what we would mean to each other.”

“It makes me wonder if you bringing him along had something to do with getting a certain someone’s permission.”

Hermione winced and the invisible weight on her left hand became completely unbearable in a split second. In for a sickle in for a galleon she thought wryly. With a quick nonverbal spell and very little consideration of her current intoxicated state, she removed the enchantment hiding their blatant disregard for tradition and pointed it out to her mother.

“Actually, Mum...”

She held out her hand and could have sworn her mum went pale.

Perfect luminescent pearls paired with gleaming rubies and emeralds, reflected on her mother’s face and blood rushed in her ears with anticipation and worry.

“So, you’re.”

“Yeah, we are.”

“Oh, my goodness; there’s so much to do! shame on you for not telling us sooner! We have to get a caterer and a dress _and_ send out save the dates…”

Hermione hadn’t given much thought to wedding planning, with Draco only having proposed a month ago, she’d barely had time to get over the engagement. The fear that made her heart feel like ice, slowly melted away as her mother grew ever more excited.

It felt like they’d crossed a chasm as she told her Mum how it all happened like they’d slipped back into their old ways, regaling each other with every small detail. They laughed in unison over him quivering so severely he dropped the ring and teared up when she recounted his speech. It felt like progress and so much more.

By the time Draco returned the atmosphere was decidedly lighter, her father didn’t seem as troubled and her mother was practically beaming at her fiancé. All in all, it was finally going well, until of course, something happened that made her want to bang her head against a wall in frustration.

Her parents had announced, rather pointedly, that they were going off to bed and Draco offered a remark about not being too far behind. She assumed that meant they would be disapparating home (though home was more of a relative term considering, small castle would be apt).

“So, lionne?”

He took her hands in his and slowly began walking her out of the living room, down the hallway.

“Mmh?”

“Your father made a rather convenient offer…”

She quirked her brow, prompting him to continue, her assumptions running wild.

“…Weeell, we’re both a bit sloshed and I figured it might be best to take him up on it.”

“Spit it out Draco.”

“We’re staying the night.”

He braced, rightly so, stopping out the front of her door (with the purple glittery ‘H’ still hanging up there). Gently as she could manage despite being annoyed, she cuffed him upside of the head, only for him to snatch her retreating hand and pull her into the now open room with him.

“Dracoooo, whyyyy?”

“Because he asked and frankly, I’m terrified of him. You weren’t kidding about the gun thing.”

“Oh boy… He didn’t!?”

“He did, and I know I pushed things so, I think someone deserves compensation.”

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. With her cheek pressed to his chest, she relaxed to the steady beat of his heart.

“Mm, what did you have in mind?”

“Well I got you into this and it got me thinking, you know how we sort of… Broke in my childhood bedroom?”

“Oh no. No, no; that was hot _at the time_ , we were alone.”

“It was, and do you remember what you said?”

“No. I do not.”

Oh, but she did, she most definitely did. Desire pooled low in her abdomen at the implication.

“You said, and I quote ‘if we’re ever in my house you better return the favour.”

“But Draco, we have an _our_ house that I’d much prefer to get back to for such things. You know; gorgeous, quaint little manor out in the country with _our_ bathtub and _our_ ridiculous bed that you insisted on, but I secretly adore?”

She wobbled a bit in his arms when she tried to reach for her wand and realised, unfortunately, he was right. They were in no condition to apparate; on the plus side, he was painfully good at keeping his promises.

She didn’t get much time to consider it further, she swayed back into him, flush and aware of the fact that maybe she wanted this. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about it before and she supposed that even with the timing being off, she really, really needed something to ease the pressure.

Okay so it was a little weird, certainly not the kinkiest thing they’d done and not the first time she’d gotten off with other people in any sort of vicinity. After all what were silencing charms for? With her mind made up and spurred on by liquid courage, she wound her fingers in the fine hair at the nape of his neck and pressed up to kiss him.

Much better.

When they eventually paused for breath, she hooked a finger in his loosened tie and walked him to her bed using nothing but muscle memory; with only a sliver of light breaking through her curtains, it was necessary.

His hands worked their way up her shirt from her hips and she bit back a giggle when he brushed a particularly sensitive spot below her ribs. He wasted no time pulling it up and over her head before dipping his head to kiss the dip of her collarbone and down…

After that it was a well-practised scurry to remove the rest of each other’s garments; Well, that wasn’t quite true, he left her snowflake pattern stockings on.

Laid out on her old bed she quickly came to realise why he’d appreciated doing similar things in his own room; when she’d last occupied this space most people considered her prudish and disinterested in cravings of more carnal natures; if they and her younger self, who so foolishly believed them, could see her now.

They’d see mottled hickeys in various states of healing, maybe a few faint bruises that matched his fingertips and his head between her legs. They’d see his back covered with scratches and tiny red crescent marks, a few hickeys of his own, in places a prude would never even dream of and her fingers tangled in that silvery blonde hair while he brought her to ruin and ecstasy with his tongue.

Returning the favour indeed. If it wasn’t already Christmas, she’d swear up and down it had come early (pun completely intended). He was relentless, determined to push her to a second peak, his fingers working in tandem to get her there.

It didn’t take long. She muffled her final cry in the down of the pillow under her head, biting down while he carried her through her second orgasm of the evening.

She almost mourned the loss of his fingers inside her, pleading quietly for him to replace them with something entirely more satisfying. Fortunately, he wasn’t in a teasing mood and there was little need for a preamble. she knew he couldn’t possibly outlast her but welcomed it anyway. Anything to have him inside her, filling her perfectly; there was nothing in the universe as important as that.

He slipped inside her with grace and ease and the last of her tension faded; surroundings, arguments, all the trials of the day melted away when faced with the blinding heat of their connection. It was glorious as it always was, her heart pumped adrenaline at a frantic pace as he drove deep into her, his eyes boring into her soul, watching closely as he was known to do until she was certain he had seen the darkest recesses of her wanton desires.

 

Then and only then did he shatter above her, the only sound a quiet sigh lingering in her riotous hair. She knew him well enough by now to anticipate his intentions when he slipped a hand between her legs and with his knowledge of her body put to good use she came again.

oOo

the following morning, Draco was up and about well before her. In her sleep induced haze, she shuffled through her house in search of him, unintentionally following the smell of bacon frying on the stove. She never could have expected to find him in the kitchen chatting and cooking breakfast with her parents like old friends.

The frosty atmosphere clearly melted to make away for warm smiles, quiet chatter, and niceties such as; 'Can't say I've ever helped make such an appetising breakfast' and 'Thank you Mrs Granger' when she passed him two loaded plates ready for the table.

What on earth happened? Clearly a miracle. (She later found out it was a damn good explanation and a whole lot of vowing)

She hid in the hall a while, pondering the antithetical nature of the scene before her and wondered just how she managed to get so lucky.

Her parents were happily nattering away with her towheaded fiance, discussing the better parts of his parent's personalities and their home; her mother was naturally interested in knowing about the extensive gardens there, but the way Draco answered each question attentively even had her Father's attention.

All that Malfoy charm seemed to pay off and her father laughed, actually laughed rather freely at some anecdote or other regarding Draco hiding from his nanny in his mother's hydrangeas.

And when he finally took note of her standing in the shadows, he smiled, beckoned her over for a light kiss and murmured four words in her ear that were more than fitting

“I told you so.”

It was the best Christmas Hermione could ever have asked for.

 

oOo

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to leave comments, kudos etc. hearing from you all makes every day feel like Christmas.
> 
> Joyeaux Noel 
> 
> Em


End file.
